The Owl Gazette
by Baka Deshis
Summary: After quitting her job in the Prophet, Hermione Granger has decided to create her own newspaper company. The problem is someone from the Prophet was sent to try and shut it down… BHr
1. Prologue

**The Owl Gazette**

**By Tasha**

**Rating:** PG-13/T

**Pairing:** Blaise/Hermione

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Summary:** After quitting her job in the Prophet, Hermione Granger has decided to create her own newspaper company. The problem is; someone from the Prophet was sent to try and shut it down…

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

The clock ticked slower than usual, as the long hand pointed twelve and the short hand to eleven. I sat on a chair opposite to Jaclyn's desk, the secretary to the chief editor of the Prophet. I clutched today's copy of the Prophet in my right hand, and my original article.

A man in a suit walked out of the door next to Jaclyn's desk, and out the door. I sat still, knowing it would be my turn next.

"Miss Granger, you may see Mr. Malfoy now." Jaclyn said.

I nodded and headed for the door. I opened it slowly and peeked my head inside the room. I felt pathetic, really, like a dog peeking out it's dog house and worried of the dangers that lie ahead.

"Ah, Hermione, come in, come in." Draco said.

Ever since Hogwarts, not to mention the war, pure-bloods and muggle-borns have set away their differences and lived in harmony. That is, not every pure-blood. Those who still believe in the Death Eater way of life were found to be psychologically abnormal and sent to the loony bin. Maybe it was because those who were sent to the loony bin were the ones sent to Azkaban in the first place.

During the war, I was one of the reporters whose job was to help update the situation to the wizarding community. The war didn't end peacefully, with Harry and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in their final showdown, but just like any fairy tale, good wins over evil and the hero gets the girl.

In this tale, the girl is Ginny Weasley.

As for Ron, he joined Charlie in Romania to work with dragons.

Me? I'm a reporter for the Prophet, sharing a two room apartment with my friend, Vivian Carr, also a reporter for the Prophet.

I went in the office and sat on the chair opposite of Draco's desk. I looked around; on the left side were shelves filled with various books, on the right were shelves stacked with old Prophet issues, the floor was decorated by a green carpet, his desk was neat, with a globe of the world, an office lamp and folders on top. Right behind his desk was a huge window, decked with green curtains and looking over London.

Draco, who sat on a big, plush, swivel chair, turned round once and rested his elbows on his desk.

"What's on your mind?" He said calmly.

"This." I said, as I threw today's copy of the Prophet. The headline was 'Rufus Scrimgeour: Portrait of our Minister'.

Draco merely picked the paper up and scanned through it quickly. "Yes, this… Might I say that this is one of your best articles?"

"Don't you mean 'yours'?" I said. I threw the original copy of my article on the desk.

Draco kept a straight face, pretending as if he didn't know what was going on.

"You rewrote the whole article!" I cried.

"What do you mean?" Draco said, still pretending to be confused.

"I wrote an article criticizing about how Scrimgeour is making the English wizarding community worse than when Fudge was in power and how he might be corrupt." I said. "But when I saw it in the Prophet, you changed everything! You wrote about how great a leader he is!"

"Look," Draco finally got down to business. "The Prophet is the official wizarding community's newspaper. Everyone reads it, even Scrimgeour. So if I published that," he eyed my paper. "He could easily bring the Prophet down with a swish. Don't you want your job?"

"See! That's the reason I wrote that article, so everyone knows the truth about our horrid leader and get rid of him, because he won't accept the fact that he is bringing the wizarding community down!"

"But the truth hurts, don't you think?"

"That's what my job is as a reporter, and your job as an editor to publish my article for the whole world to know what is wrong!"

"Still, you didn't answer my question: the truth hurts, right?"

"And the truth is what will set you free. It's better than living in a world of lies."

"But lies are what makes the world as it is today."

"… A corrupt and troubled world. You mean."

"Don't be a cynic, Hermione…"

"I am NOT. A. CYNIC." I said in frustration. "I'm just being realistic, and if we tell them the truth, we could get rid of the corruption and troubles!"

"But a perfect world… It just doesn't seem as good as it sounds…"

"Says who? You're one of Scrimgeour's puppets. You're the one who approves all the articles the Prophet publishes, and Scrimgeour is paying you to disapprove those that might hurt his ego!"

"Now, that's harsh…" Draco said, pretending to be hurt.

"IT'S REALITY." I yelled.

Draco paused and said in a calm voice, "Look, we can't just put your article on the paper. I might get fired, you might get fired, and we'll die remembered as nothing. You see, I had to change your article not just to save my neck, but yours and the others as well."

I stood up, angry.

"This is an outrage! Why won't you publish the truth?"

"Like I said…"

"I won't hear any of it! You're just a mere puppet of his, and you know what, I'm sick of all the lies."

I turned around and walked towards the door.

"I quit."

Draco mock-gasped.

"If the Prophet won't publish the truth, I guess I'll have to find a newspaper that will." I said, firmly.

"Ooh, I'm scared…" He said, mockingly.

"You better be." I opened the door and found the other reporters leaning against it, Vivian among them.

I heard her say: "If she goes, I go."

They backed away, and I slammed the door close.

I walked out, receiving many stares from my co-workers. Or might I say, EX co-workers.

Vivian walked faster to catch up with me.

"What do you mean that you'll find another newspaper?" She asked, confused.

"I have no idea…" I said, trying to keep a straight face.

"I quit my job for nothing? Hold on a sec, I need to…" She said, turning around, trying to head for Draco's office. But I caught her by the hand.

"Wait, I have an idea." I said.

Vivian stopped, and wondered. "What is it?"

"We'll make our own paper."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that's the prologue, don't worry, I'll try to update as soon as possible. 


	2. First Issue

**ONE: First Issue

* * *

**

It's been a month ever since I quit my job at the Prophet.

Three weeks since I broke the news to my family and friends. They gave me their blessings.

Two weeks since I've gotten permission from Luna if I could publish my newspaper in the same place where the Quibbler is published.

A week and a half since Luna asked if we could affiliate. I said yes, of course. The more the merrier.

A week since I've hired my team of reporters.

Five days since I've decided to name the newspaper the Owl Gazette.

Today's not just an ordinary day. It's D-Day. The day the first issue of Owl Gazette will come out.

I'm not scared, I feel dandy. I'm confident the people would read the paper and believe the truth. I'm confident that…

I might fail miserably.

I should have thought of that before I burst in Draco's office and told him off.

I'm doomed.

Last night I couldn't sleep, tossing and turning until dawn fell and I went to the kitchen to get my morning coffee. Three hours later, Vivian woke up and I started pacing.

"Stop pacing, Hermione." Vivian said, as she brushed her shoulder-lengthed auburn hair. "Don't worry so much, you'll get wrinkles."

"Worried? I'm not worried…" I denied.

"Well, unless you're trying to lose some pounds, you better stop pacing." She said, holding me down to the couch.

"Now I want you, to go out in Diagon Alley and check the sales in Flourish and Blotts." She said.

"Why would I want to do that? Nobody might buy it…"

"What with all the advertising, why would no one buy it?" She said, reassuringly. "Now get off your fat arse and go!"

And so I did, I walked out the front door.

"Uh, Hermione, did you forget to change?"

* * *

I hugged my coat tighter as I left the bus. I looked around, it was normal; people walking by not even glancing at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. I sighed and entered the Leaky Cauldron. 

Everyone held a newspaper in their hands, some reading intently and others talking to each other animatedly.

"This is scandalous! How could she write that?"

"Well everyone likes a scandal every now and then, and this is the truth! Not that shite that they make us read in the Prophet…"

"How could you say that?"

"It's in the article, see?"

I just stood in the doorway, amazed. I must have looked like a goldfish, mouth agape, looking around the whole room.

Then from the bar, Tom the bar keeper waved to me. "Oy, that's the Granger I've been talking about!"

Everyone stood silent and faced towards me. Then they all cheered.

As I walked past the crowd to get to the wall that would lead to Diagon Alley, everyone gave me a pat on the back and told me about how they enjoyed the paper today. All I could do was nod, smile and thank them.

I finally escaped from the crowd and knocked on the brick wall with my wand, revealing Diagon Alley. The crowd there had the same reaction as the one in the Leaky Cauldron. Everyone clapped, cheered and shouted encouraging words to me. Like I did in the Leaky Cauldron, I nodded, smiled and thanked them.

When I reached Flourish and Blotts, Susan Boones, the manager greeted me at the door.

"Hermione! How glad I am to see you…"

"Same here…"

"Congratulations on the Owl Gazette! It's flying off the shelves! Look!" She pointed at the cashier, and I saw that the cashier was very busy, handing people their copies of the Owl Gazette, getting the customers' money and handing back their change.

"I can't believe it, I just thought it was going to be a small company…" I said, still not believing it.

"Don't be so modest," Susan said, happily. "I'm so happy for you! The first issue and it's an instant hit!"

"Thanks, Susan, I appreciate it." I said. I left Diagon Alley and to the streets.

I ran towards the apartment, so happy that I didn't care people thought that I just escaped from the loony bin. When I reached the elevator, I kept pressing 5, the floor that I live in. As the doors swung open at level 5, I rushed down the hallway and knocked at my door.

Vivian answered, wearing curlers and a face mask. "Hermione, what's going on? What's the rush?"

I tackled her and hugged her tightly.

"It's been great!" I said excitedly. "It's flying off the shelves!"

"That's great, but can I live to see your success?" She said, as I loosened my hug.

"My success? We did it! We both did it!"

* * *

Vivian and I went back to Diagon Alley that afternoon to visit Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, where the Weasleys and Mr. and Mrs. Potter told us to meet them. 

We reached their shop and were greeted with applause.

"Hermione, smashing article there…" Fred began.

"Told the truth, and politely insulting the ferret." George continued.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley approached us and said, "We're so proud of you Hermione! Just think, it was as if it was yesterday when we met… Now you're all grown up and chief editor of a newspaper!"

I blushed and said my thank yous.

I saw Ginny and was surprised. "Ginny! You're pregnant!"

"Aye, with Harry Potter the second." Harry said, proudly, touching his wife's stomach.

"And what if it's a girl?" Ginny said to Harry.

"Harriet Potter?" Harry said uncertainly.

We both laughed. "Since when were you this narcissistic?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vivian talking to Ron. My girl best friend and my boy best friend, a couple? In a few years they'd be married, making love and having a thousand babies. I think they were meant to be with each other.

Apparently, Harry thought so too, as he nudged me and pointed in their direction.

I sneaked outside and found a very bewildered Draco complaining to Pansy, his wife, with the Owl Gazette in his hands.

"How can this be? This is not possible…" He said, confused.

"Ah, but it is." I smirked.

"This is outrageous!" He showed the headline that read 'Daily Prophet: Puppet of Scrimgeour?'.

"I told you to be afraid."

"You can not do this! This can't be happening!"

"But then, I did and this is happening." I smiled.

Draco became as bewildered as ever, stuttering and struggling to find the right words to say.

"Hey, on Friday there's going to be a party to celebrate the Gazette's debut. Because I'm a nice, truthful person, you're invited to the party. Bring your friends." I told him. "It's seven o'clock in that muggle bar, Apple Cider. Wear muggle clothes, preferably a clown's."

I walked away, smiling, leaving a confused Draco thinking that he might be slightly insane to think that this could happen.

* * *

**A/N**: I know it's kinda slow and short… But bare with me… Blaise will come in the next chapter… I promise. 


	3. Apple Cider

**TWO: Apple Cider**

"_Remember what I told you to do, play with her feelings and find anything strange or anything out of the ordinary, and report it to me."_

"_Yes, I know, you've already told me that a hundred times."_

"_I know, but you need to remember, your job is to bring the Gazette down."_

* * *

It's six o'clock, and everyone is just getting ready to go. 

"Hey, Pat, what are you going to do in the party?" I asked one of the reporters, Patrick Merkins.

"Oh, the usual. Getting so drunk I can't even piss straight. What about you, Vivian?"

Vivian just stared into space, not replying to Patrick's question.

"Don't bother, Pat. She's day dreaming about Ron again and how they will someday make auburn-headed and freckled children."

"Oy, I'm still here!" Vivian said, offended.

"Hermione, do you mind if I bring the wife along?" Jay McPhee, another reporter, asked.

"Sure, I don't mind." I said. "Oh yeah, Jenny, I checked with the caterers and there won't be any carrot cake."

"Thanks, Hermione!" Jenny replied.

Slowly one by one everyone Apparated back to their homes, changing so they could go to the party. By then, it was only me and Vivian left.

"Hermione, don't you feel something weird?" Vivian asked.

"Other than the fact that my bum hurts from working too much, no." I replied.

"No, really. It's about the Prophet."

"What? That load of rubbish can't do anything to us."

"Well, they could. I'm just worried that Draco might be jealous of our success and he might try to ruin our reputation to bring the Gazette down."

"Viv, I think you've been reading too many crime stories." I said, calmly. "Don't be so paranoid! The journalism world is tough, but not _that_ tough."

"Alright then," she sighed, grabbing her suitcase. "But I just have a funny feeling about this." She Apparated back to the apartment, leaving me alone in the office.

* * *

"Thanks for coming." I said as I shook the hand of one of the guests that just arrived in Apple Cider. 

Apple Cider was a huge bar and nightclub with an art gallery feeling to it, with works of abstract art hanging on the walls and strange mobiles on the ceiling.

It was half past seven, and the guests were just starting to pour in. I guess they were trying to be fashionably late.

I straightened by black dress again, and pulled it down, since it was so short. I had it washed Tuesday in the launderers, but they had shrunk and Viv threw a fit when we picked it up.

I tied my hair into a loose bun, since it has not changed. It is as bushy as ever, even if I put on a Hair Straightening spell, it would probably last for a few hours.

The DJ just started playing, and everyone just stayed at the bar, drinking martinis and talking to each other.

Half an hour later, the club is already crowded. Most people are dancing on the dance floor with their boyfriend, girlfriend or spouse.

That just makes me sad.

Twenty-six and still single. In a few more years, I'd turn thirty and have to start lying about my own age. I figured if I get married now then in four years I don't need to lie about my age.

And I have my parents' blessings. They've been trying to set me up with their friend's sons ever since I've turned twenty-one.

Viv has been trying to get me to date other people, and to prove my point she accidentaly set me up with my own cousin last year.

The problem is I just don't feel like dating anyone. I'm over Krum, but something just doesn't feel right.

Viv, being the 'love expert' says that it would be natural, since he did cheat on me and I do feel guilty because I thought that I couldn't satisfy him enough.

I saw Vivian dancing with Ron, and I'm happy for them, but I just wish that I could be the one on the dance floor, dancing with some one I love.

The song ended, Vivian and Ron went to the bar, where I was standing.

"Great party, Hermione, I would've thought you still were that bookworm in Hogwarts, but I guess I was wrong…" Ron complimented.

"Thanks." I replied, shyly.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Viv asked, concerned. She paused for a moment.

"If it's about Krum, forget it. He was an idiot to cheat on you." Viv said.

"He was an idiot to do anything wrong to you, since if he were here right now I would punch him to next week." Ron said, "He didn't deserve you."

"Thanks guys, I can manage." I said reassuringly.

"Then go out on the dance floor. There are many single men out there." Viv said, pushing me.

"And what if they're all queer?"

"You'll turn 'em straight!"

* * *

Five minutes, that's how long I can stay in that blasted dance floor. 

I admit I'm not the greatest dancer, and I'm not the worst, either. But I couldn't dance there since it was so bloody crowded.

The worst thing about it was that nearly everyone in the club was on the dance floor, and it would probably take an hour just to get from one side to another.

Five minutes of pushing through the crowd, and I gave up and sat down again in the bar.

At least I could still talk with someone.

"Hey Draco, Pansy. Glad you could make it." I greeted Draco and his wife.

"Hermione, good to see you." Pansy said, "You look good today."

"Thanks." Hermione said.

"Well, to be a good sport, I'll have to say congratulations on your success." Draco said, shaking my hand.

"And to be a good sport, I won't stick out my tongue and say 'nananana'." I replied.

Pansy nearly choked on her Grey Goose.

"That was a joke, Draco. Don't need to take it so hard on your ego." I said.

"Oh, hahaha…" He laughed lamely. He turned around and tapped on a man's shoulder.

The man turned around and I could swear time stopped. He was absolutely gorgeous, black curly hair, slightly tanned skin and violet eyes.

"Hermione, I want you to meet my friend, Blaise Zabini." Draco said, gesturing to the man of my dreams. I mean, the man! "We used to go to Hogwarts together, remember?"

"I think I remember you, from Slug Club, right?" That future lover of mine (I mean Blaise!) said.

"Yeah." I sighed. Great Hermione, nice first impression.

"I'm Blaise Zabini, nice meeting you." He stuck out his hand for me to shake.

"Hermione Granger, the Gazette. Pleasure." I shook his hand and said that as quick as possible, to avoid unwanted babbling.

"Oh, so this is the legendary Hermione, eh?" He asked, intrigued. "Friend of Harry Potter, chief editor of the Owl Gazette and local smarty-pants."

"That's a funny way of saying the latter, but yes. That's me." I said awkwardly.

"Is there a Mr. Malfoy here? I got a call for a Mr. Malfoy!" The bartender shouted from all the noise.

"That's me!" Draco yelled back. "I got to go, I'll be back in a sec." He and Pansy pushed through the crowd to get to the bartender.

So it was just me and Blaise, nodding our heads or tapping our feet to the beat of the music. Gorgeous, wonderful Blaise with his Italian-ness. (I guessed he was Italian since he cursed in a language resembling Italian when Ron accidentally stepped on his toe.)

"So, what was it that you do for a living?" I asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Oh, I used to work for the Zabini enterprises." He said, as if it were nothing. "I inherit the company, you see, but I quit and let my cousin take over."

"Wait, _the_ Zabini enterprises?" I said, surprised. "The most successful company in the wizarding world? Wouldn't that mean that you are giving away a zillion galleons for your cousin?"

"Yes, but I don't mind about the money." He sighed. "It was never my 'thing'. I'm looking for something more adventurous than counting money and selling things."

"I see…" I said. I looked at the DJ, he just changed the song to a fast one.

"You want to dance?" Blaise asked.

I struggled not to blush, and stuttered a 'yes'. He took my hand and lead me to the middle of the dance floor, and the way I see it, it seemed as if he were Moses and the crowd was the Red Sea. I felt they were staring at us, and all I could do was smile.

When we stopped, we started dancing to three fast songs. But then, a slow song came.

I stopped and stepped away, trying to leave the dance floor, but Blaise took my hand and pulled me closer.

"I'm not good at slow dancing! I'll make an utter fool of myself…." I complained.

"With me, you won't. I don't mind if you step on my feet." He said as he pulled me closer.

I gave in and put my arms on his shoulders. He was a head taller than me, and I could easily rest my head upon his chest. I know it's strange to do that to a person you just meet a few minutes ago, but I just couldn't resist.

Blaise didn't seem to mind, he just hugged me tighter.

I finally got what I want. To be on the dance floor and dance with the one that I love.

Only thing is, he doesn't know that yet.

---

**A/N**: I'm writing fanon!Blaise just because I like him better than canon!Blaise, okay? Sorry if this one's a bit shorter than the last chapter... :(

**QuotheTheRavenNeverMore**: Thanks! I appreciate it! Uh, don't worship me. I'm not that worthy for anything. XP Wait, never lick a monkey eh? I'm born in the year of the monkey, so does that mean I'm not to lick myself? XP Hope you enjoyed this!

**vagrantben**: Thanks for your review! I hope you enjoyed this!

**redlightspin**: I'm sorry, but Luna isn't going to play a big influence in this story, or will she… (da-da-DUM!) I hope you enjoyed this!


	4. Saturday Night

**THREE: Saturday Night**

"_Phase one is complete. Did you get her to fancy you?"_

"_I think so…"_

"_Good, good…"_

"_But why are we doing this anyway?"_

"_Because the Prophet might run out of business. How many times do I have to tell you that?"_

"_Alright, sorry… But this plan just bothers me… Aren't you a little harsh?"_

"_The opposing company must go down. If not, we go down and the money you invested to the Prophet will be for nothing."_

---

It's one in the morning and everyone in the club is filing out, tired and drunk, and happy that the next day is a Saturday.

Blaise and I sat after the slow song, we talked and laughed like any other group of people would. We had to join the others out of the club, as it was closing time already.

"Here, Blaise." I gave him my business card. "You can ring me whenever you want to. Um, you do know how to use a telephone, right?"

Blaise gave me a confused face. "Just owl me." I said, and he nodded.

"Bye then," he said before Apparating.

All I could do was just stare where he was. I was so happy that I could meet someone as nice as him.

Viv soon came out from the club, holding hands with Ron and giving each other sappy looks. I rolled my eyes.

"So, we're both in love, huh?" I asked her.

"Yeah…" She said, sighing deeply.

--

Saturday night was always poker night for us girls. It became tradition ever since Ginny had her bachelor party. We took turns hosting these 'girls-night-in' parties. Whether it be Ginny's house, my apartment, Luna's house, Lavender's house or Pavarti's house. Today it was hosted at Ginny's.

We sat around a round table in the basement. Snacks were laid out on the coffee table next to where we sat, the basement was carpeted with shag carpet (no pun intended), a shelf full of old records and a pool table.

In short, it looked like a cheap bar for motorcyclists, complete with a juke box, pool table and all.

But we don't mind. It's grown on us.

Ginny cut the cards and sat back down when she was done.

"Alright girls, put your bets on the table." She said.

We each put one or two stacks of poker chips and a couple of lipsticks or nail polish.

And so the game went on for hours. We blamed each other for cheating, bluffing and stealing the last potato chip.

"Lavender! That was the last potata chip!" Parvati said, annoyed.

"You snooze, you lose." She replied as she popped it in her mouth. "And what in bloody hell is a potata?"

"Potato, potata, same thing."

"Oh, that is so like you, to brush it off as if it were nothing…"

"Well, it is!"

"Here we go again, just like you when you were in Hogwarts…"

"Why are you making it such a big deal?"

They continued to bicker for five minutes, a usual at these poker nights. And the only one who could break them up is…

"How was the party last night?" Luna asked, raising her voice. "Sorry I couldn't come, Hermione, I had to go to a cousin's wedding."

"It's okay you couldn't come…" I began, but was cut off by a very excited Ginny.

"It was great! The DJ was wonderful and Seamus got drunk!"

"That was not his greatest moment…" Lavender said, defending her boyfriend.

"And the men…"

"Now, now, Gin, you're a married woman now…" Parvati said.

"That's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you are engaged to Dean, but you were ogling that Pat guy…"

"What? That's absurd!"

"Parvati, everyone in the club knew. Ask anyone who came to the party and they would say that you were ogling Pat…"

"Well, I wasn't the only one looking at men… Look at Vivian!"

"Oy! Ron happens to be a very nice man, he cares about me a lot and he's a good kisser!" Vivian said, offended.

"Oh, disgusting. That's my brother you're talking about." Ginny said with a sour look. "Anyway you've just met each other!"

"Not necessarily… They did meet in my birthday party." I said.

"Yes, when he spilt the fruit punch on me." Vivian continued.

"Love at first spill." Ginny sniggered.

"I wasn't the one ogling a bloke either…" She said slyly.

"Who is it?" Luna said curiously.

Everyone looked at me.

"What?" I said uncomfortably.

"Oh you know…" Lavender said sneakily.

"Tall, dark, handsome, that Zoombini guy. You know, we went to school with him…" Parvati said.

"It's Zabini." Ginny corrected her.

"Whatever." Parvati blew it off. "The point is, I saw you and him dancing the night away!"

"You can't deny it…"

I just looked blank.

They looked at me accusingly.

"Fine! I did dance with him a couple of times…"

"Right, and by 'a couple of times' you mean 'until closing time'…"

I sighed.

"Well, I guess there's no use denying it…" I gave in.

The others looked at me slyly.

"Ooh…"

"Hermione and Zabini, sitting in a tree…"

"Shut up!" I said, threatening to throw a pillow at them. "What are you? Three years old?"

"Nope, but apparently Lavender has the attention span of one." Parvati simply put, as she got back to her cards.

"Oy!" Lavender pouted.

There was a knock on the door. We all faced the door, putting all our cards on the table.

"Knock, knock." Harry said, knocking on the door.

"Hey Harry." We all said in unison.

"I've got two letters." Harry said as he walked towards the table. "One for Hermione and one for Parvati."

Harry then walked over to Ginny, kissed as if there was no tomorrow.

"Get a room!" Luna said, disgusted.

Parvati looked scared. I wasn't surprised, the letter she received had a red envelope.

"Uh-oh, a Howler? From who?" Lavender said, leaning over to Parvati.

I ignored them and opened my letter.

_Hermione,_

_Can we talk? I'll come by your office on Monday, nine o'clock._

_Blaise_

I was clearly confused. He could've just flooed to the apartment tomorrow. And why at nine? He knows that I come out of work at six at night…

"PARVATI! I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO TONIGHT! WE WERE GOING TO HAVE DINNER WITH OUT FUTURE IN-LAWS, REMEMBER? GREAT, NOW I'LL HAVE TO RESCHEDULE! ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!" It was Dean's voice coming out of the Howler. It hovered over the poker table and it slowly fell.

"Love you dear." It said, before it burst into flames.

Harry and Ginny stopped snogging, everyone looked towards Parvati. A very red-faced Parvati.

"Uhm, hehehe…" She laughed weakly. "Er… Got to go!" A crack was heard and she Disapparated.

Lavender recovered from all the shock first and said: "What was that about?"

--

**A/N**: Awh, it's pretty short again. Sorry guys. Anyhoo, thanks for all the reviews and I hoped you've enjoyed it so far!

**QuotheTheRavenNeverMore** – I hope I misspelled something there… And if you do have a seizure, call my mother. She's a doctor. XP Well, why would I lick myself anyway? Sounds like a very strange fetish there… Ah… Jerry Springer… The everlasting butt of every joke (for me, anyway). Oh yeah, I just realized your username is Edgar Allen Poe. XP How much of a dimwit am I?

**vagrantben **– Thanks! I'm glad you're not furious at me on account that I'm writing fanon!Blaise. You're Italian? I envy you so. (pouts)

jalapeno1011 – Thanks! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter!

**Kichou **– Here you go, I've updated it! Hope you enjoy it!

**vOnNiiZ** – Is that a good choke or not? And don't die, I don't know CPR. XP Hope you've enjoyed it!

As I said, thanks for all the reviews. I love reviews because it gives me the will to continue on but I hate it since it makes me sound like I'm on an award show. 'You like me! You really, really like me!' 'I used up all my English!'

Teehee.


	5. Job Interview

**FOUR: Job Interview**

"_Did you send her the letter?"_

"_Yes…"_

"_Good, the sooner the better."_

"_I know this means a lot to you, but why don't you just leave it be? It's not like the fifth horseman or anything…"_

"_Because I want her to suffer. I won't be satisfied just seeing her go down. I want her to suffer."_

* * *

…_If you don't co-operate with us, we will have to shut the Owl Gazette down._

_Sincerely,_

_Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic_

I crumpled the letter I just received from Scrimgeour and threw it in the bin. Bollocks, the Minister is trying to control the whole media. The Prophet, the radio, and I could be next.

I rested my head on the desk, which was covered with piles of parchment.

I sighed, feeling tired, even though it was the second week on the job.

Sounds of footsteps came nearer to my office, the one making those footsteps then opened the door.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Phil, the middle-aged security guard, asked, peaking his head through the door.

"I couldn't sleep, came here at five." I replied lazily.

"Poor you, do you need a cup of coffee?" He said, feeling sorry for me.

"Strong, please." I said. "Thank you."

He nodded and closed the door behind him.

The clock on the wall read six o'clock. I buried my head in the pile of papers once again. But then I had to wake up again as someone opened the door again.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" It was Vivian, peeking her head through the door.

"Yes." I said lazily.

"Oh, good to hear that. When I woke up I couldn't find you anywhere in the flat so I've decided to come here." She said, relieved. She came inside and put a mug of hot coffee on the desk. "Here, Phil said that you needed a cup of coffee. I added some milk and sugar, your favorite."

"Thank you." I said weakly, I grabbed the mug and drank a sip.

"You must have a lot of stress. The second week and you're already like this." Vivian said, sitting on the chair opposite of my desk. "If you feel tired, you can just take a day off. You're your own boss. I don't think you would give yourself a pink slip…"

"Thanks, Viv. But you know me, a workaholic." I interrupted her. "Don't worry. I'll manage." I took another sip.

Vivian looked around my desk and picked up a parchment. "These are letters from the readers?"

I nodded.

She picked another, put it down and widened her eyes. "These are dozens of letters!"

I nodded again.

"Well, I suppose we won't be having any problems with the opinion column." She said, happily. "You wouldn't have to worry if people are reading the Gazette or not."

I nodded yet again.

"But, why are you so stressed out these couple of days?"

I gave her the letter that I had just received from the Minister.

She took it and read it quickly, her face filled with anger.

"This is bollocks! How can he do that? Take some mindless drone to shut us down? What, he can't take a little beating to his ego?" She shouted angrily.

"For Christ sake, Viv. I think a deaf from the Great Wall of China could hear you." I said, covering my ears with my hands. She looked slightly put off and mouthed sorry. "I'm sorry, it's just with this extra burden I…"

"It's alright, I understand." She said, knowingly. "I'll leave you alone, I wouldn't want to be in the middle of your tantrums."

"Thanks." I said as she left my office.

I leaned back on my chair, stretched my arms and yawned. I took a swig of coffee and returned to work.

… _The Minister has become a dictator…_

… _I am appalled at your work…._

… _Thank you for speaking the truth…._

… _Why in bloody hell would you insult the leader of our community?..._

I just had another head ache from reading the letters of mixed opinions. I couldn't take the stress. I decided to edit some of the reporter's work.

… _Two girls between the age of 19 and 14 were found…_

… _The Romanian Minister of Magic has just created a bill…_

… _The Chudley Cannons once again lost a game…_

… _Witch Weekly has just published their annual list of most eligible bachelors…_

Didn't give a damn, and it seems as if there was a battering ram pounding my forehead.

Seven o'clock. Two more hours 'till he comes…. And that didn't improve matters either.

I decided to relax so the pounding would stop. I picked up the Daily Prophet that I bought just this morning, to be sure that they haven't been talking bull about us.

… And indeed they did.

…_Hermione Granger has been feeding lies to the Wizarding community. If you are a respectful witch or wizard, I advise you to not read the Owl Gazette…_

That was in the front page, an interview with Rufus Scrimgeour about the Owl Gazette. I wasn't surprised he would say that. Trying to tell us to obey him and not what our heart pleases, I suppose. How predictable. I crumpled the paper yet again and threw it out.

I heard pounding and I covered my ears, my head ache is getting worse. Until I realized, it wasn't my head.

"Knock, knock." It was Vivian again. "I thought you could use a refill." She came by and replaced by empty mug of coffee with a mug that she had just brought.

I mouthed 'thanks', and went back to burying my head in the pile of parchment.

"Oh God." Vivian came to my side and felt my forehead. "You're burning up!" She panicked. "I think you should go back to the flat and have yourself a nice bowl of soup…" She said, taking my suitcase and coat.

"Viv, you're not my mother." I said, stopping her on her tracks. "I'm fine, I'll manage."

"Oh well, your loss." She said, giving up. Then she suddenly lit up and put on a mischievous smile. "You're going to meet that Blake bloke, aren't you?"

"His name is Blaise." I corrected. "And how did you know?"

"When I was looking for you, I saw his letter taped to your mirror." Vivian said. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I never knew you could pull it off… Or even try it…"

"Shut your mouth." I said, blushing.

Vivian backed away towards the door and looked around the office. "This won't do… Hermione, you go and clean up your desk, put those parchments in the right files and I'll clean up around here."

She ran around, straightening every thing that she could see and putting everything in their places. When she was done, she came to me and tried to brush out my hair.

"Hermione, have you ever thought of using a Hair Straightening spell?" Vivian asked, as she struggled with my hair.

"Even if I did, it would still be a complete mess." I said. "I've done it before and it didn't really work. Besides, I've had this hair style since God knows when, it's grown on me."

"Well, in life you do have to make sacrifices." She said, raising her wand.

"Viv, what are you doing?" I turned around, asking her nervously.

"You can thank me later. _Rectus Saeta_."

It seems as if each strand of my hair was tied to a buffalo and there was a stampede. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry in pain.

"There you go." Vivian said, handing me a mirror that she had just conjured.

I looked into the mirror and was amazed. My hair was completely straight.

"Viv, you're a life saver." I said absentmindedly.

"You're welcome. I'm not sure how long your hair would stay straight, so if you need to straighten it again, you know the spell." She said, taking the mirror that I had just put down on my desk. "Looks like you're all set, good luck with Drake." She walked towards the door to leave the room.

"Blaise." I corrected her.

"Whatever." She closed the door.

Vivian could be a housekeeper, the place was so clean that I could find places that I never noticed before. With my desk and office clean, organized and everything put in the right places, I decided I could relax a bit.

That is, until, Jenny, my secretary peeked her head into my office through the door.

"Uh, Hermione. There's a Mister Blaise Zabini here for you." She said anxiously, then whispered. "If you're not interested in him, can I have him?"

I tried not to laugh.

"Hi Blaise," I said, walking towards the door to greet him. "Why didn't you just Apparate to my flat? You could see me anytime…" Then I saw what he was wearing. "Oh. OH..."

He wore a white shirt, a black tie and a black suit. He carried a suitcase and had his hair styled and cleaned.

I backed away so he could enter. "I'm here to apply for a job." Blaise said.

"Erm, do come in." It was awkward, and I thought that it was a joke, but when I saw the expression on his face, I knew that he was dead serious.

I sat on my chair and he sat on the one opposite mine.

"So, hello. Thank you for wanting to be part of the Gazette." I started. "As you know, I'm the chief editor and I do think that you have seen our advertisement. The one for more reporters."

"Yes, yes I did." He nodded. "Hey, did you do something to your hair?"

"Long story…" I said nervously then got back to business. "May I see your resume?" He nodded again and handed me a piece of parchment that he had just pulled out of his bag.

I was impressed. "You speak three languages?"

"Two and a half, actually. English, Italian and a little bit of Merpeople." He said.

… _Graduate of Oxford University, England in Literature and Osiris Graduate School, Egypt for Social Studies (including Politics, World Cultures etc.)._

"Very impressive…" I said as I skimmed through his resume.

I put it down and looked up at him. I had to resist blushing. I had to act professional.

"What are your previous jobs?" I asked him.

"Oh, I, er," He started. "I was helping my uncle to resolve his financial crisis." I nodded. "Which I succeeded in, of course, if you're wondering." He quickly added.

I felt that this was a new side of him, he was slightly—if not—just plain old nervous.

I skimmed through his resume once again. "You have quite a lot of connections…"

"My mother was quite a socialite in her day…" Blaise said, slightly embarrassedly.

"Well, I think you've had all of the qualifications needed. And more, even." I said. "You've got the job."

"Really?" He said, slightly surprised and excitedly. "Thank you. When do I start?"

"Well, it's still in the morning. You can start right now, if you want to." I said calmly with a smile. "Go ask Jenny, the secretary that just let you in here. She'll find a cubicle for you."

"Really? Thank you, you do not know how grateful I am." He picked up his suitcase and headed out the door. "You won't regret this!"

He got up and headed for the door and I followed, showing him the way to the door. As he opened the door, most of the female workers were leaning towards the once closed door. As they saw him, they each stood up straight, slightly blushing.

"Ladies." He said, pretending to tip off his hat.

He walked down the hallway and turned left, trying to find Jenny.

When he was out of sight, all the girls started talking animatedly.

"Oh, did you see him?"

"He is so HOT!"

"I hope he's not as gay as a picnic basket!"

"I might hit on him later…"

"Ladies, ladies." Vivian said, raising her voice. "Now, no one will be hitting on him as Hermione has loved him at first sight."

The others just sighed and said 'aww' then went back to their cubicles.

I felt blank then went back to my desk. Vivian followed me and closed the door behind her.

"So Hermione, aren't you excited? Blaise is going to work with us!" Vivian said excitedly. Then her face dropped as she saw the look on my face. "What's the matter?"

"Viv," I said, panicking. "If he is here, he will build up the pressure. What with work, the threatening letters from the Minister, the letters and…" I continued to babble.

"Hermione, calm down. What do you mean?"

"What have I done?" I cried, then buried my head in my arms on the desk.

"If you keep doing that, you might as well become an ostrich!" I heard Vivian mutter.

"I heard that!"

* * *

**A/N**: It's longer than usual (both in length and time to update), I hope you've enjoyed it. Thank you every single one of you who has reviewed. I really appreciate it. Cookies to everyone! Um, I can't reply to everyone's review right now, since I am a bit busy, but don't worry, I haven't neglected you guys.

If you have the time, please review. It encourages me to update. And it makes me feel special. XP


	6. Sick Day

**FIVE: Sick Day**

"_I got in."_

"_Good work."_

--

"Ha-choo!" I blew my nose in a bundle of tissues next to my bed.

"Bless you." Vivian said. "Oh, you should have gone home early yesterday. Now you've got a cold!"

I just glared at her and continued to blow my nose.

"Should I get you some soup?" She said, trying to console me.

"It's fine, I can just make some."

"Right then, get well soon." Vivian said, getting up and taking her purse. "I'll take over your job today."

"Bye." She Apparated out of the flat and in to the office.

Vivian has made me take the day off, and surprisingly I didn't argue with her.

--

Great, five minutes alone in the flat trying to combat a cold and I'm already bored to death.

I decided to get off my fat lard and get some soup. Hot chicken soup always makes me feel better on a day like this. I slipped on my fluffy slippers, a robe and an empty coffee mug and walked slowly out of the bedroom.

When I say slowly, I do mean slowly. So horrendously slowly that if there was a snail nearby, it would be right ahead of me.

I walked past the other rooms in the hallway and headed for the living room, which is connected to the kitchen, and leads to the door.

It's funny. When my cousin Marge visited my flat, she said that it looked exactly like those two bloke's flat from that show, 'Friends'.

And I do mean exactly. I watched an episode of the show and I jumped a bit when I saw the resemblance.

When I reached the living room, I smelled something. Food.

Yet, Vivian didn't cook anything. She can't cook. If she tries to boil water, it would explode in her face.

Not that it has happened.

I stopped and tried to smell it again. Eggs, bread… The whole package.

But the question on my mind was: who cooked this?

And the question I am practically screaming in my mind is: WHO IS THIS STALKER AND HOW DID HE OR SHE GET IN?

But let's not jump into conclusions, shall we?

There I saw him, bending over the stove, holding a frying pan. He had dark, curly hair, he was wearing quite formal clothes, some slacks and a white work shirt. On top of his clothes he wore a white apron.

I was a bit relieved. At least my stalker (or should I say kidnapper) wasn't one of those greasy, obsessed type of people.

The moment of truth came, he turned around and I screamed, dropping my coffee mug in the process.

It turned out to be Blaise.

"Blaise, what in bloody hell are you doing here?" I said, trying to catch my breath.

"Good morning to you, too." Blaise said in a cheery voice.

"How did you get in here?" I demanded, bewildered.

"The door was open." He replied as if it were nothing. "You know, you should really lock it, someone might come in here. Could be a thief, a psycho, or…"

"You." I finished his sentence.

"Now, I've been here, slaving away for you and this is the thanks I get?" He said in a motherly voice.

I blinked several times.

"Coffee?" He offered, holding out a mug.

"Yes please." I walked over to the table and sat down. He handed me the mug and I inhaled it deeply.

"I don't think we have this brand of coffee here." I said, slowly.

"Oh, before I came in I went over to supermarket."

"Oh, right." I said.

I turned towards Blaise and saw him. He scraped a piece of bread off the frying pan and put it on a plate next to him, a plate that was already covered in scrambled eggs and fried mushrooms.

"Bon apatite." He said as he put the plate in front of me.

I just stared at it, then stared at him.

"Eat up, it won't bite. Come on, you need the extra energy to get well soon."

I took a fork and picked up a mushroom with it. I held it close to my mouth and was about to eat it until I saw Blaise.

"Stop staring at me." I told him.

"What? Can't a chef find out whether or not his victims like his cooking?" He replied innocently.

"Victims?" I asked.

"Whoops, my cover's blown."

I snorted and popped the mushroom in my mouth.

"This is good!" I said, surprised.

"Thank you, thank you." He said, bowing. Then he stopped and said suspiciously. "Do you really mean it?"

"I do. Bloody hell, I've never tasted food this good ever since Christmas with my parents." I began to fork another mushroom and ate it.

"Food cooked by a mother is always the best food." He said.

"My dad was the one who cooked."

"Oh." He said awkwardly.

He sat on the chair opposite mine and read the paper. As he did so, I shoved food into my mouth, trying not to look like a pig.

"You're hungry." He chuckled as he looked away from the paper.

Thankfully I had already finished and was dabbing my mouth with a napkin. I began to drink the coffee again until a very possible theory came across my mind.

"Wait a minute." I thought out loud. Blaise looked away from the paper curiously and I continued, without knowing that he was listening. "He cooks and good at it too."

"So?" Blaise said, unmoved.

"Are you queer?"

"Yes, I am queer, Hermione. My idol is Martha Stewart and I secretly love David Beckham. Why do you ask?" He joked.

"No seriously. Are you a homosexual or bisexual?"

"You think…?" Blaise asked, confused. Then laughed.

"Don't laugh about your sexuality! It's okay if you are queer I will keep it a secret and I could help you come out of the closet…"

He just kept laughing until he could manage a reply.

"No I'm not…"

"Then how did you learn to cook this well?" I asked suspiciously. "Cookbooks? Learning from other queer men?"

"Hermione, dear, you shouldn't stereotype homosexuals." Blaise said. "No, my housekeeper taught me how to cook when I was young."

"Are you sure?" I pushed.

"Yes." Blaise exasperated. "I am not queer. Even if I was, then I would have probably found a queer boyfriend and shagging him right now."

"Good." I said, leaning back on my chair. "I'd be so embarrassed if I was hitting on a gay man." I mumbled the last bit.

"What, what," Blaise smirked, leaning in. "What did you say? Hm?"

"Uh, I said 'it would be such a pity as there are many single women out there looking for a man like you'." I said, quickly.

"Right…" He grinned.

"Oh, piss off." I grabbed the paper and pretended to read.

"Somebody's blushing…" He stood up, trying to look at my face.

"Shurrup." I managed. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I saw that you weren't at work, I was worried and I just had to see what happened." Blaise said, "Vivian told me you were sick, so I came and stopped by. Thought I could cook you a warm breakfast, just to make you feel better."

"Oh, thanks." I said, slowly putting down the paper.

"Anything for my favorite boss."

"Kiss up." I sipped my coffee again.

"Well, the position for 'brown noser' is taken." Blaise said defensively.

"By whom, may I ask?" I smiled.

"That Pat bloke seems suspicious."

"Har har." I said.

"Anyway, kissing up to a boss is easy." Blaise said.

"Depending on who." I said, thinking of Draco.

"Yes, especially if the boss is as attractive as you." He leaned forwards, closer and closer.

I tried to look away, but Blaise took his hand and turned my head towards him. I could feel his breath on me and I found myself leaning closer too.

We were so close, Blaise leaned in a bit more to initiate a kiss. I was thrilled, that is, until I heard a thud.

"Oh, God." We leapt to our feet and looked at the table. There were coffee stains on Blaise's apron. It turns out that as Blaise leaned in, he nudged the mug and made it spill.

"I'm so sorry, I'll clean up." Blaise said, looking frantically around the room.

"It's okay, I'll do it." I said, going around to the cupboard. I grabbed the kitchen tissue roll and started taking the tissue.

I put the tissue on the spilt coffee, making it absorb the coffee. Blaise did the same, and as I was about to take the tissue to throw it away, he put his hand over mine.

"Sorry." He said softly. We looked at each other, not looking away.

That is, until the coffee started to drip on the floor.

"Oh, bloody…" Blaise swore.

"Oh God."

"We're bloody wizards!" Blaise shouted. He whipped out his wand and cleaned the mess with a swish.

"Thanks Blaise, for everything." I said.

"Your welcome. Well, best be off."

Blaise grabbed his suitcase and was about to Apparate until I stopped him.

"Wait!" I walked over to him. I got up on my toes, Blaise put his head down and kissed me softly on the lips.

"See you tomorrow." I said.

"Sure thing, boss." Blaise said. "Wait, does that mean I get a raise?"

I laughed as he Apparated out of my flat.

Hmm, what a very exciting morning.

I just hope my whole day won't bore me.

--

**A/N**: Thank you for everyone for reviewing! Sorry I didn't update sooner. Hope you enjoy this!


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